


Demons Don't Shiver

by fractalficlets (fractalgeometry)



Series: Hugtober 2020 [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalficlets
Summary: Crowley is not cold, and he isdefinitelynot shivering. Aziraphale has several ideas for how to warm him up. They're met with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Hugtober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952887
Comments: 16
Kudos: 89





	Demons Don't Shiver

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I had at the beginning of the month, but haven't gotten to writing until now. I like how it turned out.

The back of Aziraphale’s hand brushed Crowley’s fingers, and a chill ran up his arm. This was no nervous chill, though, born of the fear of discovery. They were past that, these days. No, this chill was much more physical. More Earthly. 

Crowley’s hand was freezing. Which was, Aziraphale thought, not surprising. It was quite cold out, and Crowley had elected to leave his warm coat at home when they left. Aziraphale reached out and folded Crowley’s cold fingers into the palm of Aziraphale’s gloved hand. 

“Your hands are freezing, my dear,” he said.

“Only a little,” Crowley said, in a tone that indicated he knew just how cold his fingers were, thank you very much. 

“I can’t imagine the rest of you is much better,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Here, take my scarf.”

“I’m fine, angel.”

“I doubt that.”

“You doubt  _ me?” _ Crowley gasped in what Aziraphale knew was faux-outrage. “I am  _ wounded.” _

“Mortally, I’m sure,” Aziraphale agreed. “Here.” He stopped walking and began to unwind his scarf.

“Do I have to explain to you all the ways that clashes with my outfit?”

“It’s the wrong color, it’s, I don’t know, warm?” Aziraphale was getting better at understanding Crowley’s fashion choices, but some still eluded him. 

“It’s  _ fluffy,” _ Crowley said, sounding affronted.

Aziraphale sighed in exasperation and gave up on the argument. Instead, he pulled on Crowley’s hand and stepped closer, folding the demon into a hug. Crowley didn’t protest, instead pressing himself close to Aziraphale’s chest and tucking his arms in between their bodies. 

“You’re shivering,” Aziraphale pointed out.

“Demons don’t shiver,” Crowley mumbled. He nuzzled his nose against Aziraphale’s neck. “You’re warm.”

“And you’re not,” Aziraphale said. Keeping one arm around Crowley, he finished unwinding his scarf with the other and draped it around the other’s neck. “That should get you home.”

“Could just stay like this.”

“Not in the middle of the park on a winter night we can’t.”

Crowley sighed, sounding resigned. “Fine. Stay like this for a minute, then?”

Aziraphale settled his second arm back around the definitely-shivering demon. “Now that, I can do.”


End file.
